WARNING to Kids: Your Parents Do It!
WARNING (to my offspring): PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION!
The above warning may seem over-the-top, but it is necessary to protect my children from undue mental suffering. They refuse to believe, you see, that they arrived in this world in the usual way. That would mean their father and I did the dirty deed at least three times, and as every kid knows, parents don’t do it. My spawn seem to believe they were wrapped in fine silk, nestled in a Longaberger basket, and dropped on our doorstep by a misguided flamingo that was supposed to deliver them to a wealthy couple living in a mansion on a Florida beach. One wrong turn at Albuquerque, and they ended up with us.
So, okay kids. You’ve been warned. Read no further if you can’t handle the Naked Truth.
First, I have a big announcement to share. My publisher advised me that the first book in the “Fireflies” series, Love Built to Last, will be released on June 20th. I’m excited, of course, but I’ve learned a truth no one tells you. This whole “sign a publishing contract” thing is all fun and games until the ball starts rolling, and then it becomes a black hole into which disappears every single moment of spare time.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not complaining. I’m thrilled that my books are coming out this year (Love to Believe is in first round edits, and Love to Win is still in progress), but my to-do list is so long now that just opening my Franklin Planner in the morning is cause for hyperventilation.
A few blog posts ago I talked about the frustration of having too much to do and too little time to do it. I took my own advice and shoved off what I could for as long as I could, i.e. laundry, dishes, vacuuming, cleaning the bathrooms. You get the idea. Yes, my dirty little secret is a dirty little house. With two dogs and three cats, you can imagine the drifts of fur and dander covering my hardwood floors. Just to make it safely from the living room to the kitchen requires snowshoes.
Anyway, once upon a time the other day when I got home from work (part-time medical transcription) and looked at my planner, it became apparent that all that cleaning would again be arrowed straight for tomorrow. Or 2018. No way was it happening that day. And it was already midafternoon. Holy jamoley, I’d never get everything done before I had to break to fix dinner, and I’d for certain be back in my office writing, or doing writing related things, after dinner.
In the midst of my flurry of
unadulterated panic activity, the hubster came upstairs to help me speed along the updating of the checkbook after I remembered a bill I had to pay. He was helpful. And adorable. Very scruffy, as he neglected to shave. Have I ever mentioned that I find male scruffiness very attractive? After 35 years of marriage he sure knows it, and I suspect he maintained his whiskers just to draw my attention.
He gave me The Look and The Smile. I Smiled back and then—looked at the clock. Damn. It was getting late! Who has time for a romantic interlude when there’s so much on the to-do list? (A romance writer with no time for romance. Ironic, no?)
The other thing about being married so long? Yeah, he reads my mind. All the time. Sometimes it’s fun, like a party game. Other times, like right that moment, well, not so much.
The Love of my life sighed a longsuffering sigh. “Never mind,” he said, and headed for the door.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m—”
“Writing. I know. You have a lot to do. It’s okay. I understand.”
And see, the thing is, he really does.
So the hubster retreated to his downstairs office and I stayed upstairs in mine. I looked at that damn to-do list which was never going to get any shorter no matter how much time I put in. Somehow the things that need to get done get done, and the rest—well, Buttercup, there’s tomorrow for a reason.
“Hey,” I said a few minutes later, standing in my hubby’s office doorway. “Think you can spare me a few minutes?”
“What about your to-do list?”
“As it happens, you’re at the top of it,” I said.
And that, children, if you dared to venture this far, is how you really got here. Priorities in their proper order. No flamingos required.
Please leave a comment. I love to hear from you! What are the things on your to-do list that swallow your time, even if you enjoy doing them? How do you prioritize? People first? Necessary tasks? What’s your method for getting it all done? What is the one thing you never put off till tomorrow?
Thanks for hanging out with me. Have a great Wednesday!